


All the Casualties of Love

by Carlet



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Fluff, spoilers for season 6 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 16:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20100028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlet/pseuds/Carlet
Summary: Even the Cavalry is only human. Melinda finally sees Phil again the afterlife after the events in the temple.





	All the Casualties of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Short fluffy angst piece I think we all need after the season 6 finale. Spoilers if you haven't seen it yet.

The warm breeze blowing across her skin, salty ocean air, or maybe the gentle lap of the ocean waves against the shore; without opening her eyes, Melinda knew exactly where she was.

Moments ago, she’d lain on the floor of the ancient temple, what little blood she had left slowly seeping out as Daisy cried quietly above her, smoothing back her hair.

The look of devastation yet hollow resignation in the younger agent’s eyes...it was enough to make Melinda regret her insistence that there was some good in Sarge, that he wasn’t the monster he proved himself to be, that her clouded judgement had ultimately caused her to fall on the sword, literally. Leaving behind Daisy, Mack, Yoyo, Fitzsimmons...that would disrupt the entire team, especially coming so soon after Phil’s death. They relied on her still, these younger agents, for guidance, training, and although she’d never admit it, comfort.

(Once upon a time, she would’ve derisively downplayed herself as “just the pilot.” She would’ve argued she had no pivotal role on this team, that she was a good agent, yes, but ultimately just the muscle, a perfectly trained killer, a dime a dozen.)

But throughout her long history, countless SHIELD agents had willingly laid down their lives, sacrificed themselves, in the name of the greater good. Now, it was her time. She was almost surprised at how long she’d lasted given the dangerous lifestyle of a specialist.

She’d taken down Izel, she’d ensured Mack caught the sword, and knew they’d taken care of Sarge and finally defeated the damn Shrike. She’d done her part. Would it hurt, leaving her team and everything she’d known behind? Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Was she ready? That was a given.

As Melinda spoke to Daisy one final time, she knew that yes, she should’ve been more guarded, more wary that the _thing_ inside Sarge had a stronger hold, but in the end she hadn’t allowed her downfall to be futile. Her team was safe; they’d saved the world again, all of them together, and wasn’t that what SHIELD was about?

They’d just need to continue doing it without her.

A warm hand covered hers, bringing her back to the present.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Slowly, Melinda opened her eyes, squinting as they adjusted to her bright surroundings. A face swam into view.

“I gotta say, I never thought I’d see you here so soon.”

Phil’s voice, deep and rich and comforting, caused a familiar feeling to rise up inside; she could feel the tears she’d held back for so long begin to cloud her vision.

Melinda swung her legs over the chaise she’d apparently been lying on, and turned to face him; she was surprised for a moment that the searing pain from the wounds inflicted by Sarge’s sword had disappeared, and when she placed a hand on her stomach, she could feel through the white sundress that she was uninjured.

“Yep.” Phil said, echoing her thoughts as Melinda examined the unmarked skin where the pipe had impaled her leg, and where the metric Deke had once forced into her wrist. “Same here. Thirty years of scars, all gone.”

The hand over hers felt real enough, but she had to know for herself. She reached out with her other arm, hand shaking, and pressed her palm against his cheek. He smiled at her as if to confirm what she already knew.

_“Guess I’ll see him soon enough.”_

Melinda had once told Andrew, then Lash at that point, that she’d never thought she’d die at the hands of someone she loved.

As her eyes ran hungrily over his face, the warmth in his eyes, his wide smile, she inwardly rolled her eyes at herself, her blindness, her unwillingness to see the truth.

How could she think the monster Sarge could be anything like Phil, _her _Phil_?_

Sarge’s hands had wrapped themselves around her throat, attempting to violently squeeze the life out of her; Phil’s arms wrapped tenderly around her, his hands brushing gently through her hair, causing goosebumps to prickle on her arms despite the warm tropical air.

“You mean you never thought I’d end up dying at the hands of your evil doppelgänger who was created by three monoliths, and inhabited by a creature from a realm I still don’t understand?” Melinda mumbled, her face buried in his neck. She breathed in deeply, the combination of tropical air and something that was so uniquely _him _filling her with a long missed warmth.

“Something like that,” Phil deadpanned.

“You died.” Melinda bit back a sob. “Again. SHIELD...the team misses you. _I _missed you. It’s been...hard.” _To say the least._

“You did good. You _all_ did.” Phil murmured, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head. He pressed a kiss against her hair. “I am so proud of you all. You saved the world.”

He pulled away slightly, and before Melinda knew what was happening, their lips crashed together. Both moved at a frenetic pace in an attempt to make up for lost time, drinking in the other, quickly becoming entangled on Phil’s chaise lounge. The sound of the waves and the seagulls above vanished, and all that mattered was _him_, Phil, the love of her life (Sarge had not been wrong about that).

Melinda’s heart was singing, feeling lighter than it had in a long time. The last time they’d been in Tahiti, their time together had been numbered, shadowed by the death they both knew loomed around the corner. But now? Now they had nothing _but _time.

“I love you.” She gasped due to both her lack of air and the _wonderful _way Phil’s lips were running down her cheek, her chin, and her neck.

“I know.” He responded playfully, deftly clamping his lips down on a sensitive spot behind her ear, causing pleasure to pool in the pit of her stomach.

She couldn’t properly focus, not with the skillful way his hands were roaming, dancing along her skin, sending dormant nerve endings into a frenzy. Still, Melinda managed to raise an eyebrow and throw one of the_ looks _he was so used to.

“I’ve missed this.” Phil said. “I’ve missed _you.”_

This time, it was Melinda’s turn to smirk. “I know.”

“Mel…” He sighed at the way her hands reached back to tug at his short hair. Phil flipped them over so that he was on top, hands attempting and failing to unzip her dress from the side. “Damn zipper.”

Melinda reached down to give him a hand. “Slow down before you rip it.”

“Can’t…” Phil breathed in her ear as he rapidly unzipped the dress. “Don’t have much time before you go.”

She stopped short of pushing him off, instead pushing his wandering hand away from the now open zipper and glaring up at him. “_What_?”

From his position above her, Phil sighed. “You’re not dead, Mel. Or I suppose, technically you are. But not for long. Simmons has a way to bring you back. Some fancy Chronicom technology only Fitzsimmons understands. How _are _they doing, by the way?”

“Phil…” Her voice came out as a growl as she sat up suddenly, causing him to lose his balance and topple onto the sand below. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He stood and dusted sand off his pants, sitting down onto the edge of the chaise. “Did you really think the team wouldn’t find a way to save you?”

“Do I need to remind you I was _stabbed_? I saw the pool of blood left behind. There’s no way anyone could survive that.”

Phil waved her words away. “What’s a simple stab wound compared to the other crazy things our team has been through? Few hours tops, and you’ll be back in fighting form again. Did I ever tell you I _loved _seeing you with that sword?” He whispered into her ear, leaning towards her once more.

Melinda’s stomach lurched, and she wiggled a few inches backwards. “Stop it. You can’t be serious. I can’t lose you again, Phil. I can’t just _leave_ you here.”

Phil’s hand came up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. “You may think you’re ready to go, but the team’s not. They need you. Daisy especially.”

“And leave you here alone?”

“Hey,” Phil gestured to the sandy beach and brilliant blue water around them. “Don’t worry about me. I’m _fine. _There’s a collection of old historical SHIELD artifacts I’ve been organizing, and I’m finally getting to read _Ulysses_…point is, I’ll be fine.”

He was right, of course. Melinda knew there was no use arguing. How could she have thought a simple sword to the stomach would stop her from fighting alongside the team again?

“And we’ll see each other again. But I bet you’ll live to ripe old age of 100 and soon forget all about me.” He fake pouted rather dramatically. "I’ll be waiting here for you, forever.”

Melinda scoffed. “Dork.”

“You know you love it.”

“I do.” She smiled sadly at him. “How long do we have?”

“Maybe three hours.”

“Well then,” Melinda shifted so she was lying down on the chaise again. She wriggled her arms out of her dress’s straps. “We better make the most of it.”

Phil’s hungry expression was the last thing she could coherently remember.


End file.
